


Beauty

by ma_r



Series: Bleeding Red Instead of Gold [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ma_r/pseuds/ma_r
Summary: Lucy Pevensie was 8 and did not care if she was pretty or if boys would turn to look at her. She cared that she was sent far away, that she could not play in the silent mansion, and that her older siblings wouldn't listen to her when she told them of the world inside the wardrobe. Then she only cared about another war she had to fight and the way the frozen land warmed at her touch.
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie & Peter Pevensie & Susan Pevensie
Series: Bleeding Red Instead of Gold [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863949
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from tumblr [(x)](https://exolovek.tumblr.com/post/625486878932598785/beuty).

Lucy Pevensie was 8 and did not care if she was pretty or if boys would turn to look at her. She cared that she was sent far away, that she could not play in the silent mansion, and that her older siblings wouldn't listen to her when she told them of the world inside the wardrobe. Then she only cared about another war she had to fight and the way the frozen land warmed at her touch.

In Narnia, she cared not for her looks or her dresses. She had destitute and hopeless subjects to care for. There were treaties to be signed, land to be plotted, fighting to avoid, and wars to win. If boys looked at her, she didn't notice, after all, she was Queen and she had much better things to worry about. Even if there hadn’t been, her looks were the least important thing about her. Winning her hand meant winning the Valiant, the Lion’s Favorite, the Lady of Cair Paravel, and the Eastern Sea. It meant winning her intelligence, her cunning and kindness, her beauty was not even a point of consideration. At 23, she cared not if her dresses accentuated her figure, if her hair was shiny or if her lips were red. At 23, her beauty did not equate her worth. 

She spent a year in a country that saw a child instead of a woman. She wore clothes that were smaller, softer, and rougher at the same time. There was no crown adorning her long- now short- hair. She was 9, and at 9 she was considered adorable, her cheeks were pinched, the way she spoke mocked, for it was too grand and purple prosed for a 9-year-old girl who was yet to have her menarche. She did not care. But others did:

_Brush your hair, dear._

_Blue ain't your color, dear._

_You are not wearing makeup, dear._

_That is your second serving of pie, dear._

_Be more like your sister, dear._

_Men do not like a lady that engages in talks about death, hunger and war,_ _dear_

She missed her land. She was thirsty for the tears of her enemies and hungry for the blood of her prey. But instead, she was giving bland food and overstepped tea.

At 9 and 24, Narnia welcomed her back. Their child Queen whose clothes were dirtied, her hair muddied and her lips always tainted with blood. She had subjects to save, trees to wake and a Lion to find. When her people looked at her they saw fierce determination, unwavering faith, sharp teeth, and tougher skin. Once more, they did not care for her looks and her behavior. She shone so brightly that looking at her was like looking at the sun.

She was forced to return to her Grey World. This time people looked at her. Ten was too young to have leery eyes on her still developing breast. Coming back to London for a second time hurt in a way she couldn't explain. If- When- Narnia opened her doors once more, Peter and Susan wouldn’t be returning home with her. She is afraid that her land will bar her entrance next. Peter understands in a way his siblings don’t, but he is still angry and sad in equal measure. Susan is shocked, scared, sad, and feels betrayed until the only thing she feels is denial. Narnia wasn’t real, it was just a game and _it’s time to grow up, Lucy._

She is 10 and 25. And she is explained by a nun about the blood that will pool in her underwear and she is told that it's dirty and it should be kept secret. It makes her want to scream. There is nothing dirty about her body. But they tell her over and over and over again until she starts to believe them. And then the comments start:

_It’s such a shame that she will never be as pretty as her sister._

_She is going to grow old and become a spinster._

_Don’t you think you have eaten enough?_

_Oh, her eyes are too big, her nose too small. She is clumsy, arrogant, selfish, queer, and far too curious for her own good._

She is 10 and 25, and for the first time in her long life she thinks to herself: _maybe it’s true. Maybe I am ugly._ It’s a cold day, like one she has never experienced before. In Narnia, they didn’t care. In Narnia she was Queen. Here she is just an ugly ten-year-old girl that will never be loved. Because here, her beauty equates to her worth. 

She isn’t in Narnia anymore. 

She starts to curb her sharp edges, she takes great care in brushing her hair, in applying makeup, and in choosing the correct clothes for her body. She speaks softly, she bites her tongue so that she won’t speak out of turn, she goes to sleep hungry and still it's not enough for the eyes of the others. She is still ugly. 

Edmund always shakes his head when he sees Lucy refusing her favorite pastries. When Lucy refused to play in the mud or to engage in talk about strategies and casualties. By summer she is thin, her face is pale, her hair shiny and her voice never rises above a whisper. But when she laughs, her laugh echoes long after she quiets. 

Then her room floods and she breathes Narnian air once more. And for a moment she thinks: _th_ _e sea-salt will ruin my hair, the sun will burn my skin and the rich food of Narnia will make my child waistline bigger._ Those thoughts are forgotten when a small wave dunks her in the sea once more and the fact that she is in Narnia ( _Home_! her heart whispers) again settles in. But there is nothing that can shake the shame she feels about that moment of complete and utter rage. 

She is glad to see old friends, to wear Caspian’s worn clothes, to sheath her danger and to borrow Susan’s bow. She smiles and feels at home. If her teeth are sharper or her skin rougher, she does not notice.

When she dines with her friends they look at her and there are questions in their eyes when she covers her mouth as she laughs. She requests a bath, a brush, and a mirror and they incredulously ask her why she needs such frivolities. She has no words to explain to them how vanity is desirable in the human world. How does one explain that while Susan, both in Narnia and in London, was praised for her beauty and kind soul, Lucy was chastised for not being her equal in that regard? She can’t find words to express the impotence she feels in a land that does not love her as she is. A land that demands that she starve herself so that she might fit the box that had been arranged for her. How can she explain that what Narnia- her land, her people- loved about her is the reason she is despised and unlovable? In the Grey World, her determination was considered stubbornness, her bravery stupidity, and her faith naivety. 

How does she tell them that she is just 10, about to be 11, and that her body is dirty?

When the opportunity arises, she is tempted to take it. Why should she, the Queen of Narnia, deny herself what is her due? She has already served Narnia, has already ruled, and saved it, she deserves the small comfort of knowing with complete certainty that she will be beautiful. But once again, there are more pressing matters and what she wants is of no importance. 

There is a mirror on her chambers, a vanity table that holds oils and perfumes, and a brush that is passed through her hair every night and day. There is also an oil painting of four familiar figures hanging above the bed. When she asks Caspian whose image is depicted in the painting, she is met with incredulous eyes. _It’s you and your siblings, Your Majesty, the last year of your reign._ She stares at it for hours after the King takes his leave.

She had forgotten how broad Peter’s shoulders used to be, how beautiful Susan’s eyes were, how cunning Edmund looked, and how tall she used to be. She stares at her face and comes to the conclusion that no, her eyes are not too big and her nose isn’t too small. 

Her body used to be plump and healthy, her hair hadn’t been brushed but it fell past her waist in a cascade that caught the light of the sun, appearing to be a million shades of gold. Her eyes maintained the same blue hue, but the artist had captured the wild look on her eyes that she remembers seeing in the mirror the first time she returned from Narnia. She has breasts on the picture, her skin is sun-kissed and the dress hides what she knows to be strong legs shaped by years of riding and fighting alongside her siblings. She is stuck on the way her hands looked adorned by rings and how her crown had laid upon her head. Most of all she can’t stop staring at the scars that used to litter her skin. She had forgotten about them and she misses them. She is hit with a yearning she can’t verbalize. The tears that come then are not a surprise. They had been gathering behind her eyes since the first time she heard someone discuss her looks. 

She is 10 and 25, almost 11 and 26, and she is told that Narnia has taught her everything she needs to know. She doubts it but does not question it. Aslan has never been wrong before and she only had to doubt him once to know that she should never do so again. 

This time going back is harder. She remembers now, with painful clarity, who she used to be. She knows she will never be that person again. The door to Narnia has been closed and the key has been lost. She understands now, how the pain of being banished from her home had turned Susan into a shadow of who she used to be. She mourns and cries and when they tell her _your eyes are bloodshot and swollen again, dear,_ she does not care. 

At 13 and 28, the war has ended, her breasts have started developing, her waist is smaller than her hips and the boys try to look up her skirt. When she knees them between their legs they crumble in pain and call her bitch _._ She doesn't care. She eats what she wants, she runs and climbs and dirties her clothes until the nuns look at her with disapproval. She gets letters from her parents begging her to behave and she still does not care. Peter and Edmund understand, they also struggle with feelings that are too big for their bodies. 

She is 15 and 30 when she kisses an English boy for the first time. She does not care for the inexperienced tongue that licks into her mouth. She remembers the kisses she shared with the nymphs and fauns in Narnia. She then turns around and kisses another boy and then another one. She flirts and smiles and when she laughs, her laugh still lingers long after she quiets.

She will never set foot on Narnia again, but the Lion was right. She remembers the lessons she learned when the land still bent to her will. Lucy Pevensie is powerful, intelligent, and strong. She is a masterpiece depicted in cavern walls and tapestries, her story is told in songs and poems and her memory is kept in the hearts of the people she left behind. She is still Queen Lucy, The Valiant and she will never doubt herself again. It doesn’t matter that people still look at her and see a girl outshined by her sister. She has learned to ignore the comments of the people who believe they know better than her. 

Sometimes, alone in her dark room, she lets the hurt and anger out. She knows her beauty does not matter, that the way her clothes fit and her makeup adorns her face are just minuscule details. That someday people will see her true worth, but in the meantime, she allows herself these little secret tears. Because yes, she is beautiful but not like Susan. And no Lion or crown that has no power in the Grey World can ever erase the hurt that blooms from knowing that for many, she won’t ever be good enough. But she remembers the woman depicted in a painting, and it comforts her. Maybe the wild look will never return to her eyes, maybe the scars have banished and her har will never shine with a million shades of gold but when she turns 23 she will be beautiful in a way no one else can be. They will finally look at her and see everything that she really is. Maybe one day she will share her story with her lover, maybe she will command the respect she once did. Maybe she will grow old, happy, and secure in the knowledge that she is truly beautiful. 

She dies at 17. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to tag this work so if you have any suggestion please let me know.
> 
> I recently read a post about how Lucy's envy of Susan's beauty made no sense in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader because Lucy knew what she looked like when she was older and I agreed (if you have this post please let me know so I can link it). But then I started to think about how I never really minded my looks until I turned 12 and people started commenting on my weight and then I kind of got it. 
> 
> As a woman living in Mexico during the hight of femicides, gender inequality, and a toxic machista culture, I thought that it was necessary to contextualize:
> 
> Lucy's arc always felt like the classic machista idea of "women are always jealous of prettier women" but I think its more complicated than that. 
> 
> Lucy was never exposed to the idea that she had to be pretty to be important. She was only 8 when she found Narnia, she ruled for 15 years, her developing years were spent as a queen! She was 23 when she returned to Earth. 
> 
> That means, according to [Erik Erikson's Stages Psychosocial Develpment](https://www.simplypsychology.org/Erik-Erikson.html), that she already passed the Industry vs. Inferiority stage where she learned that she is competent and that she can show pride in what she accomplished. She also already finished with the Identity vs. Confusion stage and has already developed a sense of personal identity. She was in the middle of the Intimacy vs. Isolation stage when she was uprooted from her home and had her age regressed. She was already a whole ass person that was in the middle of cultivating and creating important loving relationships and then she is constantly being put down by _everyone_? That would complicate the proces developing healthy relationships. Nevermind the fact that she would have regressed to the Industry vs. Inferiority stage while simunstaionaly being in the middle of the Intimacy vs. Isolation stage. Of course she is confused!
> 
> Especially since before Narnia people shouldn't have cared about how she looked. She was a child, the Blitz was staring and people were more concerned about _that _than how they looked. Then she returns and she has to spend her whole life being compared to her older sister and told she isn't enough?__
> 
> _  
> _Then its started to bug me that people erased this whole context while thinking about Lucy's "jealousy" (which I don't think its an actual feeling she has, I just think she was conditioned into thinking she has to compare herself to Susan because society sucks and they are particularly mean to prepubescent girls) so I tried to contextualize it with this story. I hope it worked.  
>    
> Don't get me started on the injustice of how Susan is treated because I will go off and no one wants that.  
>    
> I'm sorry I got so technical and ranty in here but I'm having feelings about Narnia again._  
> _
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://exolovek.tumblr.com/) and yell at me if you want.


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